


And There He Stood

by Yankingthechain



Series: Castiel's Human Life [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker, Cuddling, Established Relationship, EzekielWasGood, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soft!Dean, bathing together, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:03:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yankingthechain/pseuds/Yankingthechain
Summary: Dean knows he’s being overly affectionate tonight, but after a month of crying himself to sleep at night over his presumed-dead boyfriend, he figures he’s allowed to be clingier than normal.*****************************After everything that happened with Metatron, Castiel is assumed dead. But when he appears a month later, dripping wet and wounded, all Dean Winchester can do is take care of his boyfriend.





	And There He Stood

Dean's missing Angel is in the library. 

He's drenched, dripping unto the floor and his hair plastered across his face. He's dressed in clothes Dean doesn't recognize, a red hoodie darkened with water and jeans too short on his long legs, his whole demeanor is down-trodden, shoulders slumped and eyes fixed firmly on the floor. 

Dean stares at him, at his drenched rat boyfriend who's just lost everything that made him feel useful, who's been missing for a month, presumed dead for just less. Sam stands and takes the wet plate he was drying when he heard the footsteps on the stairs, his heart had leapt in his throat, the same way it had every time anyone had descended into the bunker, but this time it was different, because this time it actually was Cas. 

Cas was here, alive, standing in front of him and breathing. He stood, human and vulnerable in a way he'd never been before. "Cas." Dean said, his mind tripping over the fact that he was here, Cas was here, in front of him and safe. 

 

The ex-Angel looked up and met his eyes, his brow was furrowed and his lips were turned downwards at the edges like a kid trying not to cry, "Dean." He rasped back, and it was like a dam had broke, because tears started falling fast and heavy and Dean was across the room in seconds, with the wet man pressed into his chest, one hand fisted in the back of his hoodie and the other threaded through the hair at the base of his skull. 

His Angel sobbed into his shoulder and every inch of Dean felt like weeping with him, but instead he stood strong for Castiel, and held him through the worst of it. 

"You need to warm him up Dean." Sam said imploringly, making Dean jump, "He's soaked, he'll get sick." Sam's still sick himself, but these past few days he's been up to pottering around the bunker, venturing further than his room and Dean only has Ezekiel to thank for helping his brother when he couldn't. 

 

But he can help Cas, and a bath sounds like the best place to start. "Yeah Sammy, I'll get on that." Dean replies turning his head from the crook of the shuddering man's neck to look at his brother, "You should get some rest Sammy, you're still not a hundred percent yet." 

Sam nodded and yawned, placing a hand on Cas' backcomfortingly, "It's good to have you home, man." Cas gave no allusions to having heard him apart from a small tight nod against Dean's shoulder. The taller man met Dean's eyes sympathetically, and headed down the hall to his own room. 

Dean coaxed Castiel far away for him to lead them down the hall, yet he kept his arm around Cas's waist and held him against his own body, not willing to let go, staggering to the bathroom, he shouldered the door open and sat Cas down gently on the toilet seat, Castiel went where he was directed and blinked up at Dean with big wet blue eyes. "I fell, Dean." Cas said weakly, hands clasped together in the false imitation of prayer, Dean's heart splintered and he grasped the other man's jaw and thumbed away the tears tumbling down his cheek. 

"Yeah baby." Dean agrees softly, "I think you did." Cas swallows thickly and nods, more to himself than anything, Dean goes to start the taps and grab some towels from linen closet, a luxury he only acquired recently, he’d gotten way too used to the scratchy sand-paper rags that motels offered, but the towels in the cupboard were thick and soft and Dean’s Angel had been through the worst and deserved only the best.

He comes back and finds Cas looking lost and afraid, hunched over on himself and drowning in his ill-fitting clothes. Dean adds bubbles to steaming water before turning back to his boyfriend and getting to his knees, silently, pulling a foot into his lap.

He unlaced Cas' shoes with ridiculous precision, easing them off with all the grace and reverence imitated in a Disney film. His socks had a hole at the heel and completely soaked through, Dean pulled them off to reveal blue toes.   
He urged Cas to stand with firm hands on his hips and Cas had to support himself with his hands on Dean's shoulders and allowed the button of his jeans to be thumbed open. 

Wet jeans are a bitch on their own, without the added complication of too-big wet jeans, yet Dean managed to uncover Cas' damp, goose-pimply legs and absurdly long boxers without too much bother. Standing up, he eases the jacket off Cas's shoulders and let it hit the floor with a heavy thump, grasping the hem on Castiel’sshirt he meets the ex-Angel’s eyes as he tugs his tee shirt over his head and sees a world of pain. 

Cas' torso is covered in bruises and cuts, shaped like boots rather than the hurried imperfections of accidental knocks and bruises, "Who did this Cas?" Dean asked, angry that someone would hurt his Angel, that Cas had experienced more pain and torture whilst Dean had been unaware and therefore useless. 

Cas shrugged non-commitedly and his voice broke when he said "Everyone." 

Dean closed his eyes and breathed deeply, forcing his anger down and far away from the broken man in front of him that needed no less than all the love Dean had to spare.   
He wants to scream, wants to kick and stab and hit every person on this earth that has ever hurt Cas when he was already hurting, instead, he presses a hard kiss over the blue-eyed man's cheekbone and says, "Get your shorts, babe." And goes to turn off the taps. 

When he turns back, Cas is naked in front of him, his ribs are peaking through his skin and his bruises are bright against his pale skin, "Careful getting in, it's warm and you're still cold, you'll burn yourself if you don't ease yourself into it." Dean warns like a parent to a toddler, well-aware that he’s mothering his boyfriend, but also well-aware that his boyfriend needs some mothering right now.

Castiel's eyebrows furrow together, but he nods seriously. He opens his mouth as if he was going to say something, then bites his lip and shakes his head at the ground. "You okay, Cas?" Dean asks softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer, it hurt to even have this minimal distance between them, after a month of no contact and he scrubbed his palms up and down Cas' arms, trying to generate even a little heat. 

Castiel avoided his eyes, but didn't pull out of his grip, "It's childish." He said, scowling at the ground and looking embarrassed, Dean hated that his angel, his dorky, serious angel had the ability to look embarrassed.

“You think that matters to me? If you want something, and I can do it, then I want to do it for you.” Dean waggled his eyebrow flirtatiously, “Unless it’s something sexy…” he trailed off, managing to get at least a small huff of laughter from Castiel.

“I assure you, it isn’t anything sexual. But, I would like it, um, if you wouldn’t mind joining me.” He nodded at the bath as if to clarify, then looked away quickly, “Although I understand if you don’t want-“

“And you said it wasn’t something sexy.” Dean grinned, already yanking his tee shirt over his head and kicking off his boot. He shimmied out of his jeans and boxers in one practiced go and Cas watched bemusedly as he hopped around to peel off his socks. He stood in front of Cas, naked as the day he was born and asked, “What way do you wanna do this? Tub’s pretty big.”

“I would like to see you, if it’s possible.” Castiel says and Dean nods, with them both being grown men it’ll be a tight squeeze, but it’s doable. Even if Dean does gets kneed in the nuts a couple times in the process, they do manage it, even if they’re practically sitting in each other’s laps.

“I have missed you Dean," Cas lifts a hand out of the water to cup Dean’s jaw, sending rivets of water down Dean’s neck, his eyes are almost awe-filled as he strokes over the slope of his nose and the bow of his lips. “Even though I knew I would find my way back to you, I found myself aching for you at all times of the day. I found myself forgetting your face, even though I remade every cell of you, I could not remember the freckle just here, under your eye that lasts year round, or the three on the jut of your hipbone, that make a straight line if I were to connect them. It was unnerving, I dislike not being able to remember things.” Cas frowned, but he didn’t seem in danger of tears and for that Dean was grateful.

Dean smiles at him though, because out of all the things Castiel has lost, the one thing he cared about losing was his memories of Dean. “Then you’ll just have to relearn me, everyday, for the rest of our lives.”

Cas nods reverently, “Yes, of course, Dean. You seem older than I remember. These bags under your eyes, have you not been sleeping properly?” Castiel’s hand slips lower until it’s hooked around the back of Dean’s neck. 

Dean scoffs dismissively, “You’ve been through hell and back this month, and you’re asking if I’m okay?” Castiel glares at him and Dean shrugs, “I thought you were dead man, of course I haven’t been sleepin’.” 

At this, Castiel looks inordinately pleased. “So you missed me as well.” He says more to himself than Dean and Dean can’t help the sad smile that appears across his face.

“Dude we had a funeral. I haven’t slept properly in weeks, I thought you were dead.” Dean voice cracks on the last word and he glares at the water, ignoring the pooling in his eyes, “Course I fucking missed you.”

Castiel crowds close into Dean’s space and water sloshes over the side onto the tiles. Dean presses his nose into Cas’ damp shoulder, “Fuck man, I thought you were dead. I-I-Cas.” Dean shudders against him, and hot tears spill over his cheek, he bites at his lip feeling like a fool, “If you do that again, I’ll kill you myself.”

“After everything that I’ve done, you still want me. I betrayed you Dean, I could’ve helped Sam. All my brothers and sisters have fallen to earth, many haven’t chosen to fall as Anna did, and have not found vessels and contain to grow weaker as they circle the earth, if I hadn’t been so foolish then I could-“

“Cas, this isn’t your fault. If you wanna blame someone, blame the guy that betrayed you, because it sure as hell isn’t your fault.” Dean said into Castiel's shoulder. 

“But it was my grace that Metatron used to cast the angels from Heaven, it was because of my-“

“Babe, no. It’s not your fault, and we’ll find a way to fix it, just not now. Not tonight, I’ve just gotten you back and I need to take care of you for a change. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Dean promises, and after a brief pause, Castiel nods.

“You wish to help me with the other angels?” Castiel asks, and Dean pulls away to look at him.

“We’re a team Cas, if you break it, then we both buy it. Okay?” At this Castiel nods, and pulls Dean forward to press their foreheads together. 

“You, Dean Winchester, are a remarkable man.” Castiel whispers and Dean darts forward to press their lips together in a kiss. 

“God, I missed you.” Dean responded, just as quietly, Castiel leant forward until their lips were pressing together again, Dean cupped Cas’ face in his hands and the beard that had grown there after a month without shaving reminded him of the task at hand.

“I’ve missed this, I’ve noticed that my…carnal urges seem to have strengthened in your absence.” Castiel confessed heatedly, sneaking his tongue into the hot cavern of Dean’s mouth. Dean let out a loud, contented hum that jerked him out of his stupor. 

“As much as I enjoy that, and let me tell you, I do enjoy that, I think it might be best if we keep it clean. In all matters of the word.” Dean grabs for the soap and a jug of water, “Now turn around and let me scrub your back.” 

Washing Castiel isn’t easy, he has to go very lightly around his wounds, and even then some of the cuts reopen and start bleeding, there isn’t much Dean can do for them while Castiel’s still dirty, and it’d be best if they got the grit washed out of them before he cleaned them up.

He washes himself quickly, dunks his head under and scrubs at his hair even quicker, Cas needs a haircut, badly, and it’d be better if Dean did that from outside the tub, but whenever he stands up Cas panicked and grabs at his hips, “Where are you going?” He asks, his words a jumbled mess, Dean hums soothingly and runs a hand through the other man’s hair, he grips it and tugs teasingly.

“As much as I love havin’ something to hang on to, this is crossing into Bieber territory baby, I was going to cut it for you,” Cas nodded and let go, allowing Dean to clamber out of the bath ungracefully and tie a towel around his waist. 

In the bathroom cabinet he finds a pair of scissors and a bottle of shaving cream and Dean grabs his own razor from the cup on the sink. Castiel watches him from the bath with interest, and Dean can barely hold back the swell of glee in his chest that makes him want to skip and dance just knowing that Cas is safe now, that he’s alive.

He leaves his findings on the toilet seat and guides Casto sit facing the wall. Cutting hair is easy, and Dean used to cut Sam’s hair all the time growing up, before he went to college and developed an allergy to scissors judging by the mane of hair he currently rocks.

For a while they sit in silence, and the only noise is the quiet snip of the scissors as they cut off the tangles in Castiel’s hair, it’s grown long enough to curl at the nape of his neck, and Dean almost regrets cutting off the curls because they’re adorable, but Cas requests it to be his usual length and that means losing the curls. It takes just under fifteen minutes for Dean to restore Castiel to his former glory and only then does he guide his boyfriend to spin around to face him.

“Pay attention to how I do this, you’ll want to do this for yourself.” Castiel nods, and dutifully tilts his head to back. “I usually go twice against the hair growth, and then another stroke with it. It comes off cleaner then.” Dean’s voice is soft and Cas stares up at him with trusting eyes. Dean realizes he’s holding a blade to Castiel’s throat and the other man isn’t even flinching, the level of trust Cas has in him is enough to make him pause before realizing that he in turn would trust Castiel to hold a loaded gun to his head and not pull the trigger.

Castiel waits until Dean is wiping the cream off his face with a warm towel before speaking again, “It is my understanding that I was quite stubbly before my fall.” Dean freezes, wondering if that was a complaint, if he hadn’t shaved Cas to him liking, but the other man simply stares up at him and Dean realizes he’s simply making a statement. 

Dean shrugs and continues to wipe the cream from Castiel’s face, “You suit the clean-shaven look too,” he finishs wiping and slaps playfully at his boyfriend’s cheek, “Plus, I won’t miss the stubble burn.” It takes a while for Cas to catch on, but when he does his cheeks burn but then smile on his face is nothing short of lewd.

Dean snorts, “Okay I need to wash your hair, but your sitting in a puddle of your own hair so why don’t you head over to the shower to rinse it all off and I’ll yank out the plug?” Castiel nods and allows Dean to manhandle him into the shower, he switches on the shower and lets Cas wash the hairs off as he tidies away the crap he used. He pulls off his off towel and grabs the shampoo to join Castiel in the shower.

He crowds into Cas’ space and hooks his chin over the shorter man’s bony shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Hey baby, you come here often?” He cooed fondly, Castiel glanced at him in amusement. 

“Didn’t you just get dry?” He states accusingly, Dean presses a sloppy kiss to Cas’ neck and taps the shampoo bottle against the jut of Castiel’s hip.

“I needed to wash your hair. Get you all nice’n’clean, maybe after, we can get you all nice’n’dirty again.” Dean flirts, and when Cas raises a skeptical eyebrow, he laughs and swats at the other man’s ass. “No seriously, on your knees.”

Castiel drops to his knees with a hollow thump and winces, “That was a lot easier to do as an Angel.” He admits and Dean laughs, tilting the spray so that it flattened Castiel’s hair against his head. 

“I should’ve warned you, aging is a bitch on the knees.” Dean said sympathetically and scrubbed a soapy hand through his boyfriend’s hair, he lathered it into a mess of suds. He kept the soap from the other’s eyes with his thumbs and then grabbed the shower head to rinse out the bubbles. 

“Head back baby,” Dean says affectionately and Cas tilts his head back obediently, he drenched his hair in water, and made sure every ounce of soap was washed out. Cas stood and Dean double checked the ex-angel was completely clean before allowing them out of the shower. He knots his own towel around his waist absentmindedly before grabbing his boyfriend and manhandling him into the biggest towel they hand.

“You’ll get sick if we leave you wet for too long.” Dean tells Cas firmly and bundles another towel over his hair. He scrubs it at it to take the edge off, but Cas’ hair is too thick and it barely has any effect.

“Dean, I recall mothers treating their infants in the same manner that your bestowing upon me.” Cas says, amused beneath the mass of linen. Dean pauses, then flushes in embarrassment.

“You tryna’ say I’m babyin’ you Cas?” Dean laughs nervously, hands dropping to twist at his own towel. Cas catches his hands and says in a low voice.

“I’m not asking you to stop, Dean, I find it…appealing, that you care so much.” 

“Good, because you bet your ass I won’t stop, not until you’re properly fed and watered. And in bed-my bed. Sound asleep, that sound good to you?” Dean says sternly and Cas nods serenely from underneath the towels. 

“That indeed sounds good to me.”

“Just let me get a look at these cuts first, not much I can do for the bruises, but a couple of those wounds need bandaging.” Dean roots in the medicine cabinet for the bandages they always have in stock. Dean doesn’t ask for answers and Castiel doesn’t give any and they remain in a solemn silence as he tapes up the cuts on Castiel’s abdomen, the rest are healing well already, but these ones just need the extra support a bandage can give them.

“Thank you Dean, they were growing uncomfortable. I am unused to not being able to heal myself, dealing with those have been tedious at best.” Castiel manages to sound huffy as he says it, his voice deep and low as always but still managing to sound as sulky as a little kid.

“Part of the misfortunes of being human: no instant healing powers, just good old fashioned bandages and bed rest. Onto the next order of business, getting’ you dry.” Dean tells him as he takes Cas’ hand to lead him to his room where Charlie left her hairdryer the last time she stayed with them. Dean knows he’s being overly affectionate tonight, but after a month of crying himself to sleep at night over his presumed-dead boyfriend, he figures he’s allowed to be clingier than normal.

He sits Cas on the bed and digs out the bright yellow hairdryer that Charlie abandoned, he plugs it in and turns it on, Cas watched him as he dried his hair, like he usually did, and now without the dirt he could see how tired the other man was, an exhaustion that was replicated in his own bones, but he needs to feed him before he lets him sleep, and he needs to dress him at the same time.

He picks out Cas’s clothes for him, a pair of yellow plaid pyjama pants and his favorite metallica tee shirt, with the neck stretched out wide and comfortable. He gives him a clean pair of boxers and a thick pair of woolen socks but he does allow Castiel to dress himself. Although he does keep an eye out for him as he pulls on his own less important attire of a shirt and sweatpants. He shuffles into his slippers and eyes his robe, then Castiel’s thin frame.

“Here buddy, put this on, you need to keep warm.” He helps Castiel into it and ties it for him, Castiel inhale deeply and close his eyes. 

“It smells like you.” He informs Dean, a smile pushing a roundness into his cheeks, “I have missed your smell. It’s…comforting to have it back.”

“Yeah, yeah, Cas. I love you too, let’s go feed you before you eat me.” As if on cue, Castiel’s stomach rumbles loudly and the other man looks embarrassed as he places his hand on it.

“It has done that quite frequently over the past month, I’m still not sure what it means.” Castiel confesses apologetically and Dean’s heart cracks, he hates the reminder that for an entire month Cas fended for himself, and during that time he didn’t get enough food, and he was cold and dirty and Dean couldn’t help him.

“Means you're hungry baby,” Dean says, coming close to his boyfriend and pulling him close, glad that he’s here now, close enough for him to take care of, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, when you needed me.”

Castiel moves closer to press a dry kiss against Dean’s mouth, “You didn’t know, and I had no way of telling you. And you’re here now, ‘babying’ me. It’s not your fault and you have me now.” He kisses Dean again, and Dean kisses back, closing his eyes with a sigh, it’s so sweet that Dean’s toes scrunch in his shoes as Castiel curls his tongue into his mouth. Castiel’s stomach makes it presence known loudly with a protesting grumble and Dean pulls away laughing softly. 

“Okay, c’mon, kitchen.” 

Dean figures that Castiel’s stomach is still pretty weak, but that doesn’t mean the guy doesn’t scarf down nearly three rounds of toast and a large cup of milk. He wouldn’t give him any coffee despite his asking, because turns out Castiel doesn’t understand that caffeine gets you buzzed, and judging by the way the angel was yawning into his meal, he knew the last thing Cas wanted was to stay awake.

As soon as Cas is finished, Dean whisks away the dishes and plants them next to the ones he never got finished this evening, “Bedtime.” Dean informs them, yawning himself, he glances at his watch and sees that it’s nearing twelve, he’d hate to admit to it to his younger self, but he has a regular bedtime now, and this is past it. 

Cas stands without complaint and Dean again takes his hand. He’s missed the feeling of Cas’ hand in his, Cas had big hands, and they were always warm, Dean had wept at the thought of never feeling them in his own again.

He pulls Cas along the corridors to his bedroom-their bedroom, Dean kicks off his slippers and Castiel lets the robe fall to the floor, it’s almost as if by a conscious decision that they both strip to boxers. Dean climbs into bed and Cas immediately cuddles close to him, grabbing his hands and holding them between their bodies. They lay on their sides, content to lie close and and just drink in the sight of each other. 

Cas looks older, but it’s nothing that can’t be solved with a goodnights sleep, there are one or two grey hairs at his temple, and if Dean had to guess ages, then he’d say Cas was in his late thirties, not much older than himself.

“I love you, Dean.” Castiel informs him in that matter of fact voice he’s always had, even if now it’s somehow softer, fonder. Dean will never tell anyone that he smiled like a giddy schoolgirl and cuddled close, but he did anyway.

“Yeah Cas, I love you too.”


End file.
